


slipping the clutch

by endlesshydrangea (bloominsummer)



Series: kiss me under the mistletoe 2020 [5]
Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Guns, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, no shots fired but :], star crossed lovers, the plot in this is basically handmade automobile as dowry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28099692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/endlesshydrangea
Summary: “Do you still plan on shooting me?” Seungcheol whispers against his lips. “Because I think I might be into that.”What a buffoon, Jeonghan thinks.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Series: kiss me under the mistletoe 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042560
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89





	slipping the clutch

**Author's Note:**

> written for anonymous, who wanted something from the [80 bpm, 180 mph](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833139) universe! <3
> 
> work is meant to read as a spin-off; but for quick context:
> 
> Seungcheol & Jeonghan are leaders of different gangs whose territories & business ~overlaps~. The two gangs do not necessarily get along but any trouble between them is usually resolved through street racing — whoever wins keeps both cars and the case is considered closed. Their relationship is mostly kept under wraps.
> 
> Wonwoo is Jeonghan’s right-hand man who initially built Archangel, Jeonghan’s racecar. Wonwoo uses the car more often now that he is racing too.

The fresh magazine makes a little _click_ when Jeonghan inserts it into the carrier. Jeonghan checks the seat and places his left hand on the top of the slide, pulling it back sharply before releasing. A familiar sound of a round being chambered is heard. He grabs an extra round and slips the item into the right pocket of his pyjama pants before he walks out of his bedroom, navigating himself through the darkness of the compound.

No one is awake at this hour of the night, when the moon is playing hide and seek with the stars and the clouds stare in audience. Jeonghan himself would still be fast asleep if he hadn’t heard a faint clank of metal coming from the garage a few minutes ago.

As a routine he walked the compound perimeter before he went to bed, double-checked the security system. Nothing was out of place. The intruder, whoever it is, must've just entered the premises.

Stopping at Wonwoo’s door he presses an ear against the wood and hears nothing from the other side, which means whoever or whatever is moving and breathing in the garage, it isn’t his confidant. He lifts the gun into the air and aims it to the darkness in front of him as he creeps toward the source of the sound. Jeonghan’s breathing is inexplicably loud in the brunet’s ears, the rush of adrenaline coursing through his vein overlapping with the undercurrent of his inhales.

“Move and I’ll shoot,” he announces to the figure he finds crouching near the front wheel of his prized car. “My questions come after my bullets.”

The response Jeonghan gets for his threat is none other than a fond laugh, light but mirthful. He knows that laugh well, has grown accustomed to hearing it, and now his heart is picking up its pace for an entirely different reason than nervous apprehension.

“What the fuck are you doing?” demands Jeonghan.

Seungcheol straightens up from his position and wipes a dirtied hand over the front of his shirt. “Good morning.”

“No, it’s not a good morning.” Jeonghan lowers his gun, something he absolutely would’ve never done in Seungcheol’s presence a year ago. He puts the safety lock back on to avoid unfortunate misfirings. “It’s not even _morning_.”

The older man advances his feet toward Jeonghan. In a situation such as this, it’s easy to cower from Seungcheol and his intimidating gait, but Jeonghan understands that no matter how intensely he’s eliminating the distance between them, when Seungcheol’s arms come to wrap around his middle, they will set a fortress inside which Jeonghan’s body and soul are safe and sound.

“Good morning,” Seungcheol repeats. He’s stubborn this way.

Jeonghan supposes it makes him the bigger fool out of the two, since he fell in love with Seungcheol’s worst qualities as deeply as he fell for his best ones.

“I asked what the fuck are you doing.”

The answer—it turns out—is that Seungcheol is here to kiss Jeonghan senseless against the wall, strong fingers wrapping around Jeonghan’s wrist to ensure the gun is pointed at a safe direction, as if Jeonghan is reckless enough to risk shooting him unintentionally. Where Seungcheol licks him Jeonghan bites back, a form of protest for being woken up at this ungodly hour for no apparent reason. Seungcheol presses himself closer, one leg fitted in between Jeonghan’s spread ones. His knee moves upward with a purpose and once it reaches where it’s meant to be, Jeonghan moans into the warm heat of Seungcheol’s mouth.

“Giving you your Christmas present.”

Pulling away from Seungcheol, Jeonghan tucks a strand of ash blue hair behind his ear, caressing the small semicolon tattoo Seungcheol has inked onto his skin there. His gaze is bright in the lightless garage, chocolate eyes full of anticipation and affection. Jeonghan tugs him back into his personal space and kisses Seungcheol again, arms winding around the older’s neck as he deepens their exchange.

“Do you still plan on shooting me?” Seungcheol whispers against his lips. “Because I think I might be into that.”

 _What a buffoon_ , Jeonghan thinks.

“Idiot,” he says aloud, putting the gun above one of the metal cabinets that holds a range of sockets and spanners. “Where’s my present?”

“It’s here already.”

His lover reaches to the side and flicks on the light switch. Jeonghan groans at the sudden attack on his eyes, cringing inwardly at how blinding his surrounding becomes in the span of a few seconds. With a hand on the small of Jeonghan’s back, Seungcheol guides his steps to where he wants Jeonghan to stand. This is a trust exercise, one that the two of them are on their way of making perfect.

“Open your eyes when you can,” Seungcheol tells him, mouth brushing against Jeonghan’s temple. “Take your time.”

When he regains his sight, Jeonghan finds an elegant, dark beauty staring back at him. The paintwork is a luxurious carbon black metallic, the light-alloy wheels appear in double-spoke style. He takes a step forward, muscles operating under autopilot mode, and places a hand on the polished hood. It feels warm beneath his touch and that tells him Seungcheol had driven the car here.

“What’s under here?” he lightly knocks his knuckles on the shiny surface.

“Do you want to open it?”

“No, just tell me.”

He doesn’t need to look to know Seungcheol is smiling, his whole being lighting up with pride because of Jeonghan’s implicit approval of his gift choice. “A straight-six engine. Two turbochargers. The petrol injects—”

“Directly into the combustion chamber.”

The car utilises the best technology there is out there, one that increases the efficiency of the engine and guarantees a great performance to the driver. In a race against Archangel, Jeonghan’s former prized car, this stunner in front of him has a high chance of winning given the right person is sitting behind her wheel.

Seungcheol’s voice pierces through his private bubble. “Yeah. She’s fast.”

“She’s fast,” Jeonghan repeats after him, agreeing with Seungcheol although he’s only conducted an initial assessment of the vehicle. “Then why are you giving her to me?”

“It’s time you let Wonwoo have Archangel to himself,” explains Seungcheol, moving to stand beside Jeonghan. “And she’s not for free.” Of course not, nothing Seungcheol does is ever without ulterior motives. “I have something to ask in return.” He strokes Jeonghan’s nape gently, his thumb pressing into the younger’s pulse point beneath his jaw, coaxing an acquiescence out of him.

Jeonghan moves away to circle around the car. “And what is it you want?”

“I want to put it in you.”

Interesting choice of words Seungcheol has there. It offers Jeonghan the upper-hand on a silver platter, an opportunity to divert the conversation from where Seungcheol is leading them toward.

“I’ve already let you put it in me three times this week alone. Cheers to the holiday spirit. We are definitely on Santa’s naughty list this year, don’t you think?”

“Not that, Jeonghan-ah,” Seungcheol guffaws, body shaking with pleasure. “I didn’t mean that.”

Before they got to know each other intimately, Jeonghan used to wonder what kind of things would amuse Seungcheol, since he’d always worn a mask of cold indifference whenever Jeonghan saw him at the races. He has an answer to that question now and if knowledge is power, Jeonghan feels all the more puissant for it.

He's aware of what Seungcheol is asking. They’ve touched upon the topic a few times before, but Jeonghan has adamantly refused to entertain Seungcheol’s request on the matter. Seungcheol wants him to insert a tracking chip beneath his skin, the same kind he has planted on the back of his neck. He argues that it’s in the interest of Jeonghan’s safety, but Jeonghan begs to differ.

“I don’t want it.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not some kept dog,” he points out, “I don’t need to be chipped.”

Seungcheol raises both eyebrows in challenge. “ _I’m_ chipped. Does that make me a kept dog?”

 _Of course you’re a kept dog. You’re_ my _kept dog_ , Jeonghan wants to reply, but the stern look on Seungcheol’s face refrains him from doing so. Seungcheol is standing in Jeonghan’s garage between the hours of dusk and dawn, unprompted and uninvited, delivering a present to his doorstep that Jeonghan neither asked for nor expected. He must be in one of his more serious moods for this to happen and Jeonghan would hate to rile him up too much. After all, Jeonghan’s the one who would have to suffer the consequences for such actions.

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Because sooner or later people are going to find out about us.” Seungcheol’s jaw tenses, displaying his lack of enthusiasm over the inevitability of said prospect. “And I have enemies who might think it’s a great idea to leverage you against me. If that ever happens, knowing where you are is going to save me precious minutes that’d make a significant difference to saving your life.”

Jeonghan knows all too well about Seungcheol’s enemies. He has a list of his own demons; wolves barking at his heels just waiting for Jeonghan to slip so they can celebrate his downfall by feasting on his remains. This way of life they’ve chosen for themselves—though it’s one that led Jeonghan to Seungcheol in the first place—it makes him wish things were less complicated than they are sometimes.

“I have enemies too, Seungcheol.”

He hates the thought of putting Seungcheol’s life at risk because of his conflicting interest. Because of his conflicting _loyalty_. Jeonghan would quit him if he could, but Seungcheol is a drug that carries a high risk of relapse, and Jeonghan is hooked on him.

“Which is why you have full access to my device.”

The _as I will have access to yours_ goes unspoken, yet it hangs heavily in what small distance there is between them.

Seungcheol looks him straight in the eyes and shows no intention of looking away from Jeonghan until the younger gives him the green light. The black diamond at the dip of his throat moves accordingly as Seungcheol swallows. He waits for Jeonghan, patient for the moment. Jeonghan weighs his options, his love for Seungcheol on one end of the balance and his responsibility as a leader to his crew on the other.

“I’ll talk to Wonwoo about the chip.” Wonwoo will say yes. He and Mingyu probably have their own way of keeping tabs on each other’s whereabouts, should the need arise for one of them to locate the other in an instant. “If he agrees with the idea, then I’ll strongly consider it.”

The tension leaves Seungcheol’s body in slow waves, rigid lines morphing into smooth curves, ease colouring his handsome features. Jeonghan is glad for it. The only time he enjoys seeing Seungcheol’s dark brows meet in the middle of his forehead is when he’s taking Seungcheol deep inside his mouth, tonguing along his shaft while Seungcheol cradle the base of his skull. Half to encourage Jeonghan to continue, the other half to keep him in place.

“Alright,” Seungcheol grins as though he’s already gotten what he came here for.

“You didn’t need to do this,” he gestures toward the car, “to get me to listen to you.”

“I was trying to be persuasive.”

“You bought me a fucking racecar,” Jeonghan reiterates, pointing at the vehicle to emphasise his point.

Seungcheol could have used the money to buy heavy-duty industrial chains and drag Jeonghan to the basement of his compound, shackle him until he yields into Seungcheol’s demands. The same effect achieved for less than a tenth of the expense. Paying Jeonghan’s expression of disapproval no mind, the blue-haired man simply shrugs and digs into his pocket for the keys. He tosses them at Jeonghan, who catches the set with ease.

“Correction,” Seungcheol says with a knowing lilt, “I _built_ you a fucking racecar. Now be honest with me, on a scale of 1 to 10, how likely are you to go on your knees and thank me for it?”

So that’s why Seungcheol’s chest has been puffing up with contentment. That’s why he takes pride in Jeonghan enjoyment of his gift. Seungcheol didn’t order her from some shop, detached from the creative and manufacturing process that birthed her. Instead, he crafted the beauty, put her parts into a whole in Jeonghan’s image and purposed her for him. Seungcheol does it all with calloused hands that have been nothing but gentle every time they are laid on Jeonghan’s body.

“Extremely unlikely.” Jeonghan’s voice shakes. Subtly, but still. He’s rather overwhelmed by Seungcheol’s gesture, now that everything has been put in the right perspective. “God knows when’s the last time anyone vacuumed in here. Being that close to the ground will set off my allergies. But if you ask nicely, there’s a decent chance I’ll let you fuck me on the hood.”

Seungcheol frowns, glancing at the stunner.

“I just polished her over with super resin, though.” The corners of his mouth are turned downward in a playful scowl. “Is the bed no longer an option now, Jeonghan? Must we make love like savages?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes so hard they’re about to pop out of their sockets. Seungcheol was the one who suggested having sex in the garage in the first place, yet the moment Jeonghan offers him to have his way anywhere near the car, he plays the role of the innocent lamb. It doesn’t fool anyone, especially not Jeonghan, who’s gotten good in seeing through Seungcheol’s little acts.

“Fine,” he relents anyway. “Bed it is. Let’s—”

An intrusive humming of a Camaro engine enters the air, alerting the two men to the additional presence right outside the garage’s door. Jeonghan moves to retrieve his gun again, Seungcheol watching him closely and anticipating his next move. He doesn’t seem to carry any firepower with him, so he reaches for an adjustable wrench and follows Jeonghan out.

Jeonghan fights a smile from taking shape across his face. It might not seem like an important gesture to others, but he appreciates Seungcheol not insisting on going through doors first. Whatever danger may await them on the other side, he trusts Jeonghan to be able to handle it just fine.

“Whoa,” Mingyu raises both his hands in the air the moment he gets out of his car. Jeonghan aims the gun at him, his grip comfortable. “What did I do?”

Different to how he had treated Seungcheol previously, Jeonghan keeps his weapon trained between Mingyu’s sharp eyes. His index finger curls around the trigger, ready to pull if necessary. “What is it with you and coming overhere without an invitation?”

“I have an invitation,” says Mingyu, looking past Jeonghan’s shoulder at something, _someone_ , who’s just opened the front door.

“What did he do?” asks Wonwoo.

The question is light and delivered without a hint of concern, making Jeonghan sigh. He is evidently losing authority around this place. No one respects him enough not to enter his private property without explicit permission anymore. He glares at Mingyu from behind the hammer of his gun, still refusing to lower the weapon until Wonwoo comes to stand between the end of the muzzle and Mingyu.

“We’re leaving for his place in the countryside,” Wonwoo explains calmly. “Sorry to wake you at this hour,” he continues, looking apologetic, “but this one wants to catch the sunrise at some beach along the way.”

He puts the gun down.

“Fine.” This will be the first holiday season since the night he took Wonwoo under his wings that he wouldn’t be spending with the younger man, but Jeonghan’s not going to forbid an adult from making his own decisions simply because he might get lonely when left to his own devices. “Go, then.”

Upon hearing his words, Wonwoo smiles gently and approaches him. Before he knows it, Wonwoo’s pulled him into a warm embrace, one tight enough that Jeonghan can smell his facewash, but not too tight that he can’t pull away if he wants to. He pats Wonwoo’s back twice, both Mingyu and Seungcheol watching their interaction the entire time.

Wonwoo is still wearing that smile when he withdraws and walks backwards toward Mingyu. To Jeonghan’s right, Seungcheol clears his throat pointedly. He almost asks Seungcheol what he wants, then he remembers the conversation they have just had before Mingyu interrupted them.

Ah.

Yes.

“Wonwoo,” he calls out.

The younger’s steps halt. “Yes?”

“He wants to put it in me,” Jeonghan cocks his head in Seungcheol’s direction. “What do you think?”

Five seconds pass with nothing but the low humming of Mingyu’s engine in the background, until a frown appears on the racer’s face. “Ew,” Mingyu comment, his nose crinkling. “Is that really something you need to discuss with Wonwoo?”

Jeonghan tilts his head to the right in consideration. Shooting Mingyu give him some sense of satisfaction, but he’s not sure it will be worth making Wonwoo upset. Well, Jeonghan can just hit his arm. A graze. A flesh wound, nothing too serious. Should he? Jeonghan readjusts his grip on his gun, but before he can make his decision, Wonwoo makes one for him.

“Wait inside the car,” he tells Mingyu off, a bite in his tone that shows clear reprimand. “And you better watch your mouth.”

Mingyu shrugs but moves to follow the given order. “Alright,” he opens the door to his Camaro, putting half of his body inside before he adding, “happy holidays, Seungcheol.” He throws one last cursory glance in Jeonghan's direction. “You too, Jeonghan. You nasty freak.”

His gun is raised in the air in an instant. Seungcheol snatches it away from him, quick as a fox, and Jeonghan scowls at him for ruining his fun. Mingyu’s glass is bulletproof anyway—it’s not like Jeonghan can do him any damage once he’s inside the moving fortress.

“What did he offer you?” asks Wonwoo.

Jeonghan looks away from Mingyu’s smug face to answer the question. “A car.”

“What car?”

“The one sitting in our garage as we speak,” Jeonghan gestures to the door behind him with a jab of his thumb. “Pretty cool. Pretty fast.”

“Did you want to drive it?”

He shoves both hands inside his pockets, finding the unused magazine in his right one. Jeonghan lets his hand wrap around the rectangular object, the polymer a known material under the whorls of his fingertips. Almost as known as Seungcheol’s skin, the endless stretch inked with black and purple. The cartridge exposed at the topmost is cold to the touch, much unlike his lover who always runs warm.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Wonwoo crosses his arms over his chest.

“You don’t trust anyone,” he highlights a fact well known to all three men, “and because of that, the only cars you ever drive are the ones you built yourself, or the one I built for you.”

And?

“If you wanted to drive the car he brought, that means you already trust him with your life.”

“Did you want to drive it?”

Seungcheol is the one posing the question this time. There’s a certain kind of vulnerability in his tone that Jeonghan would never have associated with him before. But things have changed, a great number of them too. Jeonghan presses his thumb against the blunt tip of the bullet.

“I did.”

“Then you have your answer,” Wonwoo nods, satisfied. “I better get going. If we miss the sunrise he’ll be in a foul mood for the rest of the day.”

He heads toward the car and Jeonghan watches him go, because the alternative would be to look at Seungcheol after what constituted as a heartfelt confession for them.

His confidant gives him one last look, mouthing his farewell at Jeonghan before he drives off. Seungcheol closes the distance between them until Jeonghan can feel his breath against the side of his neck, but he says nothing. Keeps on saying nothing as Jeonghan tugs him back inside by front of his shirt and reactivates his security system. He doesn’t even want to think how Seungcheol got passed it in the first place—right now Jeonghan doesn’t want to _think_ , period.

For all his effort to nurture a deafening silence, Seungcheol does ask Jeonghan, “Do you love me?” once he’s seated at the edge of Jeonghan's bed.

Jeonghan himself is perched on top of him as if Seungcheol’s lap is a kingdom meant to be conquered. Their position allows the younger of the two to steal his gun from Seungcheol's waistband and tuck it beneath his chin as he returns the question.

“Do _you_ love _me_?”

Looking deep into Jeonghan’s eyes, Seungcheol strokes Jeonghan’s wrist, his touch feather-light. “Enough to die a happy man if you pull the trigger right now.”

Jeonghan knows he means it.

“Let’s ride my gift around town later.” He moves the gun away from Seungcheol, places it above the nightstand before he looks down at him. Jeonghan brings his hands to rest above Seungcheol’s torso, pressing there he can feel the thrum of the older man’s heart under his palm. “I’ll drive.”

“Okay,” Seungcheol smiles, his sweet dimples showing. “And now?”

“And now," he leans in, trapping the soft cartilage of Seungcheol's ear in between his teeth, "I’ll ride you.”

Seungcheol's cock twitches in interest beneath Jeonghan’s weight and he grins before he leans down to show Seungcheol exactly how thankful he is for his present.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted the last bit to be a parallel between wonwoo/mingyu's beginning scene in full throttle because I just think wonhan parallels are neaaaaaat. this was so fun! I initially wanted to make them fuck against the car but mmhmmm it would get away from me and end up somewhere in the 6-7k range.
> 
> but!! it was fun revisiting this universe again. thank you anon for requesting, hope you enjoy it ^^
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/blminsmmr/status/1343912272230420480?s=21) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/bloominsummer)


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